BOB BESTLER - ON THE LOOSE
Two lasting images of Strom Thurmond will always stand out in my
mind.
The first occurred in January 1997 at an S.C. ball I attended at
the Museum of Natural History in Washington, D.C.
The event was held on the eve of the second inauguration of
Democrat Bill Clinton, but the runaway hit of the evening was a
Republican named Strom.
Many of the Democrats gathered there probably had never voted for
the senator, but when he showed up, they were drawn to him like
moths to light.
Thurmond arrived late at night, then stood in the central hall
while hundreds of Democrats came up to say hello.
Despite his age - he was 95 then - he remained standing for more
than an hour, greeting everyone, smiling for dozens of photos,
shaking hand after hand.
The other image comes from the annual Chitlin' Strut in Salley, a
small town south of Columbia.
I had gone to Salley to see if its cooks had found a way to make
chitlins taste good (they hadn't) and to write a column about
it.
A highlight of the event was the annual Chitlin' Strut Parade -
and the highlight of the parade was a U.S. senator named Strom.
Riding precariously on the back of a convertible, he waved and
smiled, and the people responded with applause and cheers. They
loved their senator - and he obviously loved them.
I've had my share of fun with Strom in this column. During his
last Senate campaign, I wrote that when you consider the age of the
pyramids, Strom was really pretty young. Another time I argued for
putting his likeness on South Carolina's quarter - an idea I still
like, frankly.
We were political opposites, but my respect for him extends back
more than a quarter century when, as an editorial writer in North
Carolina, I applauded his quickness to adapt to the civil-rights
laws he had opposed so vigorously.
Thurmond was, as I recall, the first civil-rights opponent to
hire blacks for his staff - a big deal back then.
Last year, political columnist David Broder, writing about the
vindictive racial attitudes of Jesse Helms, noted how Helms and
Thurmond are often linked.
"But there is a big difference between them," Broder wrote.
"Thurmond, who holds the record for the longest anti-civil rights
filibuster, accepted change. For three decades, he has treated
blacks and black institutions as respectfully as he treats all other
constituents."
The reason is simple: No one ever loved this state and all
of its people more than Strom Thurmond; it is likely no one ever
will.